They pitched forward into the black night, choking with laughter. A fly crushed its wings on the windshield. Emeka squirted water from the wipers. Bits of fly washed away in the water. Emeka chuckled. It is impossible, Job thought. Three women at once? Just a boy? Maybe he’d gone too far with that justification. Still, no matter. They’d been at it all night, laughing, reminiscing over things that had never happened rather than the things that did.
Job: I wrestled five men once, beat them all in. They were akatta basketball players, tall as giants.
Emeka: Donald Trump, that man is asking me to work for him, but me, I have no time for this. I told him, me, I will think it over.
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